Deconstructing the Carrock scene (Thorin's POV)
by overtherisingstar
Summary: What was going through Thorin's mind at that scene at the Carrock? Can be read as gen or pre-slash, whatever you prefer.


**A/N: Gift for wanderingsmith. This is meant to be pre-slash, but it can be read as gen if you like. Just a deconstruct of the Carrock scene from Thorin's POV, as requested.**

There were indistinct murmurs from somewhere above him, and Thorin woke to pain.

The first thing to come to his mind as he awoke was his last memory, that of the halfling throwing himself at Thorin's would-be executor like a vengeful spirit, the dwarf prince trying to get up to protect the surprisingly reckless fool, struggling through the pain in his ribs, side and head, and then… nothing.

What had happened to him after that? Did he survive?

"The Halfling?" he murmured, opening his eyes to Gandalf.

The look on the wizard's face was that of relief and approval. "It's all right," he said. "Bilbo is here. He is quite safe."

Good. Then there was still a chance to find out _what_ the fool had been thinking, risking himself like that!

Around the dwarf prince, several members of the company were getting to their feet. The orcs were nowhere to be found, the company had clearly moved from where they had been when last he had been conscious, and he could see a glimpse of some truly _large_ eagles circling nearby. Was that how they had escaped with their lives intact, then?

But that did not matter at the moment. They were alive and, according to Gandalf, safe. Somewhere nearby there was a hobbit he had to give a very stern talking to.

Closest to him were Dwalin and Kíli, and as Thorin heaved himself around to clamber to his feet, the two stepped forward to grab his arms and help him up. He heard a relieved sigh from right in front of him that sounded distinctly like the hobbit, which enabled him to locate Bilbo as soon as he was partway upright.

He shook Dwalin and Kíli off. He could stand on his own, and he did not need, nor want, their help for this.

"You!" Thorin growled, not taking his eyes off Bilbo. The relieved look on the hobbit's face faltered, turning into one of bewilderment. What had he expected, praise for nearly killing himself? "What were you doing? You nearly got yourself killed!"

Images of the hobbit's broken body flashed in front of his eyes, making the dwarf go cold all over. Did the hobbit not realize what _danger_ he had put himself in?!

And how could he have misjudged the Halfling so? The Bilbo Baggins he thought he knew would _never_ have risked himself in that way! He would have trusted to the Company to do all the work for him, to take him safely to their goal, _not_ wave his little sword at Azog and impale orcs to protect- well- him.

"Did I not say that you would be a burden?" he asked, bewildered as to _how_ he could have misjudged the halfling so badly. He stepped closer to Bilbo, watching his expression intently. "That you would not survive in the Wild?" He stopped right in front of the hobbit, swaying slightly. "That you had no place amongst us?"

Bilbo looked resigned, now. The lost, uncertain look on his face made something in Thorin give way, and for the first time in a very long time, he accepted that here was someone new he could trust. The hobbit was not a dwarf, but he had proven himself to not be a burden, to be able to survive and make his own place amongst Thorin's company, against the dwarf's belief. It went against everything he had ever said about the hobbit, and for the first time, he saw him clearly.

Here, in front of Thorin, stood someone with worth. If anyone had a place in his company, it was Bilbo.

Shaking his head, moved almost to tears by how grateful he felt for having such a companion, he yanked the Halfling into a fierce embrace, almost falling upon him as his strength gave way, as he gave voice to his greatest regret.

"I have never been so wrong in all my life."

The company cheered behind him as Thorin grinned, hanging onto the surprised hobbit for dear life. It took a few moments, but eventually he felt Bilbo return the embrace. He lingered for only a second after that, and then he stepped back, glancing over the hobbit's body to ensure that he was not injured.

Bilbo had held himself rather stiffly, but there were no visible wounds, no blood present. Thorin felt assured, meeting the hobbit's questioning gaze again to apologize properly. "But I'm sorry I doubted you."

Bilbo shook his head quickly, looking much happier now. Apologizing had been exactly the right thing to do, it seemed. "No, I would have doubted me, too," he said, disparaging himself as always. "I'm not a hero, or a warrior."

Thorin smiled at him fondly, as Bilbo looked pointedly at Gandalf and added with wry humor, "Not even a burglar."

There was the swish of wings behind him, but Thorin could not care, too preoccupied with looking at the hobbit in front of him and marveling, wondering what he had ever done to earn such a creature's loyalty. Because he could see it now, how the Halfling always dismissed his own worth, belittled his own talents, forgave so readily. It was a strength that Thorin did not hesitate to admit to himself that he did not have. A different kind of strength.

Not a hero, indeed.

Something behind the hobbit caught his attention, and as he slowly raised his gaze, he realized with awed disbelief that he could see his home from here. It was distant, far in the horizon, but unmistakably the Lonely Mountain. Just a peak in the horizon, and yet…

Home.

Distantly, as he stepped around the hobbit to get a better look, he heard him say, "Is that what I think it is?"

It required but a few limping steps to get to the ledge, from which he had a breathtaking view. The horizon, unbroken, but for that one peak. Strange, how something that looked so small from such a distance could mean so much. Could hold so much.

Thorin ached to see it. Even as he ached for home, he felt the sight of it fill him with new strength. Erebor felt within reach now. His injuries and pain did not mean so much, they would heal. The quest, with all its dangers, had been worth it simply for taking him this far. For letting him see his home again.

He heard the rest of the company step up behind him, Bilbo taking his place beside him as though he had always been meant to be there, as Gandalf answered the hobbit's question and confirmed what they all thought.

"Erebor… the Lonely Mountain…the last of the great Dwarf kingdoms of Middle-earth."

But it was so much more than that, wasn't it? It was more than just a mighty kingdom. "Our home," Thorin declared proudly, raising his head. He felt like he could almost touch it, that mountain peak in the distance.

A bird started chirping, and Óin declared it a raven even though it was clearly not. Ravens did not chirp. "The birds are returning to the mountain."

Thorin followed the bird with his eyes, seeing that it was indeed going in the direction of Erebor. There was nothing wrong with the healer's eyes, only his ears.

"That, my dear Óin, is a thrush," Gandalf informed them happily.

_Stand by the Grey Stone as the thrush knocks_, echoed in Thorin's head. "But we'll take it as a sign." Looking away from the mountain at last, he met Bilbo's smiling gaze as he added, "A good omen."

"You're right," Bilbo nodded firmly, turning back to the mountain again. "I do believe the worst is behind us," he added with a relieved sigh.

Though it was true that they had had a few truly horrible days, Thorin knew it did not compare to the dragon that awaited them. Still, he did not contradict the Halfling. They had come this far. The sight of his home before him and the happiness in Bilbo's tone made him hopeful.

Perhaps their quest would succeed after all, with their Burglar by his side.


End file.
